Muggle Summer
A/N: A gentle reminder that this story takes place in the year 2006. Thanks to chemprof for his professional opinions on silver chemistry.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.
Chapter 51: Bad Moon Rising
Saturday , July 7, 4:00pm
Thames House, Millbank, London
Harry Potter badge-jumped from a hastily arranged meeting at Gringott's to a hastily arranged meeting at MI-5 headquarters. Having arrived in an otherwise empty conference room, he pulled his anchor point into an embrace.
"Time and place, Mr. Potter," Hermione chided, as she grabbed the front of his Clan Potter robe. "We need to get you changed and through the checkpoint."
"What, this isn't where we're meeting?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, we're just outside the first security point."
Harry muttered to himself as shed his wizard attire and rummaged through his rucksack for his suit jacket.
"And don't forget your muggle holster," said Hermione. "We'll have to show them our handguns."
Harry nodded. "So why couldn't I just jump into the meeting room?"
"The Home Secretary claimed it might mess with the electronics."
Harry sighed as he looped his arms through his leather shoulder harness and switched his pistol from its magical holster to its muggle counterpart. "More like the time-wasting idiot doesn't like the idea of us popping past all of his security layers."
"Harry, you can't call the Home Secretary an idiot."
"How about 'Right Honorable Idiot,' then?"
"Stop it," Hermione chided. She then noticed Harry's rucksack and said, "Merlin, your bag is going to raise havoc with the x-ray machine."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, we can't have that….Dobby?"
The house elf appeared near-instantly. "Yes, Harry Potter, sir?"
"Will you hold my rucksack for a few minutes?"
Dobby nodded vigorously. "Of course Dobby can do that for the great Harry Potter, sir."
Harry and Hermione emptied their pockets of magical metallic objects and placed them into Harry's sack, along with his sword and their wands (just to be safe). Dobby popped away as Harry buttoned his coat.
"I hate these muggle holsters," Harry commented, as he fiddled with the straps. "They break the line of this jacket something terrible."
Hermione chuckled and grabbed his hand. "Let's go, Agent Clotheshound."
One of the Home Secretary's aides was waiting for them on the other side of the security barrier, which kept Harry from immediately retrieving his rucksack.
Hermione whispered as they walked down the hall behind the aide, "Don't you need to use the Men's before we get there?"
Harry shook his head.
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, as she mimed some wand movement.
Harry's eyes lit up, then narrowed as a devious-looking expression came over his face.
"We don't want to keep the Home Secretary waiting, do we?"
His girlfriend's eyes grew wide as she quietly said, "But I really think…."
The off-key tune that Harry began to softly whistle made it clear that Harry had other thoughts in mind.
Harry and Hermione were shown into a conference room with floor-to-ceiling windows on one wall, a bank of video displays on the other, and laptops stationed in front of each conference room chair. The MI-5 chief and Home Secretary were there, while the Prime Minister and MI-6 chief were patched in from remote locations.
Hermione gave Harry a quick primer as he took a seat. "There's cameras built into the top of each computer screen," she said quietly. "Just talk to the laptop as if you were talking to the P.M. and MI-6 chief."
Harry nodded, then stood back up. "Excuse me, gentlemen."
"What is it?" the irritated Home Secretary asked.
"Just need to retrieve our….."
"Harry, no!" Hermione exclaimed, but not before he had called for his favorite House-Elf.
Dobby popped onto the conference room table directly in front of Harry. The Home Secretary cried out in shock at his first sight of a non-human sentient.
"Yes, Harry Potter, sir?" the House-Elf asked timidly, as he looked around the room.
"Don't worry, Dobby, they all know about magic," Harry said with reassurance.
"Oh, Dobby knows all about that, Harry Potter, sir," the House-Elf replied. "They wouldn't be able to see me if they didn't….I have your bag right here, Harry Potter, sir."
"Thanks, Dobby, you're the best," Harry replied with a smile.
"Agent Potter, exactly what is going on?" the Home Secretary demanded.
Harry gave Hermione a wink as he looked up and smiled. "Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners?" He reached out and said, "Here, Dobby, have a seat."
Harry lifted the House-Elf off the table and set him down onto a chair. With Harry's encouragement, Dobby sat up on his knees so that he could peer over the table's edge and into the laptop's camera. Harry grinned as the image of his wide-eyed, pointy-eared devotee joined the Prime Minister's on the video display. Dobby ducked down at the sight of his own face.
"Everyone, I'd like to introduce you to my good friend Dobby," Harry announced, as he pulled the House-Elf back up. "Dobby, this is the muggle Prime Minister, Home Secretary Chisholm, and Director Generals Hibbing and Eveleth."
"Harry," Hermione said, with a bit of admonishment in her voice. She grabbed the House-Elf's arm in reassurance. "Don't worry, Dobby," she said, "you're safe here."
"Oh, I'm always safe next to the great wizard Harry Potter, Miss 'Mione," Dobby replied. Having noticed that his chair moved when he shifted his weight, he spun his char around in a circle and cried out in delight.
"Harry Potter, sir, the moving portraits, and this chair… I can't see the magic within it?"
Harry laughed at the comparison between portraits and video displays and leaned down to whisper into Dobby's ear. "It's hard for me to see muggle magic too."
Hermione gave an impromptu primer on House-Elves and their role within wizarding society whilst Harry retrieved their wands and other objects from his rucksack. The Home Secretary and MI-5 chief found it difficult to divide their attention between Dobby and the seemingly bottomless pack, particularly when Harry withdrew his sword.
The Q&A on House-Elf slavery was interrupted when Hermione caught Harry pulling a candy out of his bag.
"Fancy a toffee, Mr. Home Secretary?"
"Harry…behave."
"Yes, dear, erm…I mean…yes, Agent Granger," Harry replied. Taking this cue, Harry thanked Dobby for his help and the House-Elf popped away.
Hermione had already briefed the Prime Minister on the Death Eater sighting in front of the Rookery, as well as Lucius Malfoy and the nature of The Rookery itself. Harry's job, then, was to report on his just completed meeting with Ragnok. The goblin told Harry that the Grand Council had told Voldemort where Malfoy was hiding. This had come as a surprise to Harry, although it explained why Rookwood and the Carrows had been seen scouting out the site.
"Sending messages to the enemy," the Home Secretary muttered. "Making unilateral decisions without bothering to consult…are you sure that these goblins are your allies Potter?"
Harry tried to hide his contempt as Hermione diplomatically asked, "Mr. Home Secretary, is Her Majesty's government unfamiliar with close allies that act unilaterally, or are less than forthright on certain matters that affect key bilateral relationships?"
The Prime Minister chuckled. "She's got you there, Chisholm…Agent Potter, if you would continue?"
Harry nodded, then noted that Ragnok was convinced that no harm could come to muggles, as the building was warded against magical attack or entry, and had fire suppression charms applied to the exterior. When he mentioned that Rookwood had thrown a rock through the front entrance, Ragnok had replied that the wards protected any magically-aided physical attacks.
Harry spent fifteen minutes answering questions following his report. They were split between clarifications and confrontations; most of the rancor would have gone away had the Home Secretary bothered to read the reports provided to him.
With the Prime Minister insisting that proactive actions were more important than after action assessments, they moved on to their options.
"Just because we spied three of these wizard terrorists walking down the street…where's the need to do anything, particularly if they're hell-bent on killing one of their own?" asked the Home Secretary.
"With due respect, Home Secretary," answered the MI-5 Chief, "they may have been a scouting party for a much larger force, and there's more than a half-dozen theatres on Shaftesbury alone. With Piccadilly just down the road, and it being a Saturday night…"
"Exactly my point," argued the Home Secretary. "They'll have to cancel performances if we clear out the area. Think of the revenue they'll lose."
"They'd lose far more if Sir Harry is right and there's an attack that kills off a few dozen tourists," argued the MI-6 Chief.
"And what if he's wrong?"
The Prime Minister stated, "Chisholm, after Ascot the Queen's Wizard could issue a dozen false alarms and still be on the positive side of the ledger."
"So you say."
"Exactly," the Prime Minister replied. "And as I'm the one spending my weekend at Chequers and not you, I dare say that's good enough."
With that decision quite emphatically made, a plausible mechanism was quickly developed to evacuate the area surrounding the Rookery, both to limit injuries and minimize the need for obliviator squads. They then argued over cooperating with the Auror Department. The initial position was for no Ministry of Magic involvement, before Harry and Hermione convinced the others that going it alone would likely reveal the extent of MI-5 ¾'s knowledge and operations both to the Death Eaters and the Ministry of Magic.
"You trust the Head Auror, don't you Harry?" the Prime Minister asked. "Why don't you arrange for a meeting, and set something up with him?"
"Yes sir," Harry replied. He scribbled out a quick message, then turned to the tinted exterior windows and scowled.
"Don't suppose you can open these?" he asked.
When the MI-5 chief shook his head, Harry sighed and rummaged through his rucksack. Finding his portable hole, he tossed it up against the floor-to-ceiling windows. A rush of air came through the opening, upsetting the piles of paper stacked on the table.
"Now see here, Agent Potter!" the Home Secretary yelled.
Harry ignored him as he called out for his familiar. A few seconds later Hedwig glided gracefully through the hole and took a perch on top of Harry's laptop display.
"What in blazes?" the Home Secretary demanded.
No mind was paid to this ranting as Harry ran his fingers through Hedwig's feathers, then carefully tied his message to her leg.
"Another good friend of yours?" the MI-5 chief asked.
Harry nodded. "Hedwig was my first real friend, weren't you girl?"
His familiar bobbed her head up and down.
"Take this to Head Auror Robards straight away," he instructed. "You know the safe place, right?"
Hedwig bobbed her head again, then turned and launched herself back through the window hole. As Harry walked over to retrieve his portable hole with a touch of his wand, the Home Secretary snarked, "So do you have any other creatures at your beck and call, Potter?"
Harry fumed, wanting desperately to hex the nitwit politician, but managed to hold his tongue with the support of Hermione's comforting grasp of his arm. Unfortunately, he didn't think to return the favor.
"Dobby is a sentient magical being, and no more of a creature than you are…sir," Hermione scolded.
"Agent Granger, I'll have you mind your impertinence!" he yelled.
"And I'll have you mind your boorish bigotry, Chisholm," the Prime Minister demanded. He then calmly added, "Agent Potter, once this immediate crisis is past I think we would all enjoy an opportunity to spend some more time with your magical friends…wouldn't we Chisholm?"
The Home Secretary managed a curt nod in reply.
Harry smiled. "Dobby will be thrilled, though we'll be hard pressed not to have him cook for the occasion."
"Wonderful," the Prime Minister replied. "I'll be returning presently to 10 Downing Street. Agent Potter, would it be possible to secure the services of one of your Order of Arthur members this evening? I dare say that we would benefit from Dame Hermione's input as a member of my crisis committee."
Harry smiled as Hermione let out a surprised "Eeep!"
"Hermione need not gain my permission, sir," Harry replied. "And as our employer and Prime Minister, we are all at your command."
"Brilliant," the Prime Minister replied.
"But Harry…who will be watching your back?" Hermione whispered.
"No worries, Hermione, you and all the others are just a badge-jump away."
"Are you sure?"
Harry forgot where he was and kissed Hermione's forehead.
"Absolutely."
+++
5:30pm, Soho, London
Rookwood had run out of ways to unobtrusively kill time before the attack. It had to be fate's payback for not doing his pure-blooded duty to procreate.
Riding up the escalators at Marks and Spencers had held the siblings' interest before Amycus got caught trying to peek up of the skirt of a woman riding down. Lasted almost an hour at Trafalgar Square feeding pigeons, before Alecto caused a stir arguing with a birdseed-selling hag. And then there was the cinema, where he had failed miserably in his attempts to keep the Carrows from yelling at the screen as if the characters could hear them. Running out of options and money, the senior Death Eater had resorted to driving around London; while it didn't make his colleagues any less annoying, it minimized the amount of attention that they drew to themselves.
Traffic was rather heavy as the former Unspeakable made his way back towards the Rookery, and came to a complete stop about a quarter-mile away from the spot he'd selected as a staging ground for their assault. Rookwood began to worry when he heard sirens up ahead, and reached over to change the radio station for the news.
"Oy, I was listening to that show," Alecto complained.
"Like you plan on gardening any time soon," her brother snapped.
Just then Rookwood dialed into an ongoing radio newscast.
"…details provided as soon as practical. To repeat the hour's top story, Metropolitan Police have evacuated a portion of London's West End after an unattended motorcar was discovered loaded with cans of petrol. The shut down of Shaftesbury Avenue from Piccadilly Circus to Charing Cross Road has led to the cancellation of the night's theatrical performances at venues within the affected area..."
The former Unspeakable swore loudly.
"What's the matter, Rookwood?" Amycus asked from the back seat. "You were planning on taking us to a show as well?"
"No, fool," Rookwood snarled. "The muggles have blocked off the streets around Malfoy's building… somebody might have tipped off the Aurors." He didn't vocalize his opinion that the goblins were no doubt playing both sides.
"So what do we do now?" Alecto demanded.
Augustus let out a deep sigh as he pulled his small vehicle in a tight U-turn. Pulling away from the stalled traffic, he replied, "We move on to Plan B."
"What's Plan B?"
"The other plan, of course."
"Oh. So what does 'B' stand for?"
Rookwood sighed. He was tempted to say "Im-B-cile", but doubted that the idiots would get the joke. And so he went with a coincidental truth.
"B stands for broomsticks."
+++
While Augustus Rookwood searched for a parking garage, Harry and Wally walked into the muggle street entrance of the Leaky Cauldron with a wheeled trunk in tow. An Auror was stationed just inside the door next to a sign announcing that the street entrance was closed until further notice. The Queen's Wizard gave the Auror the proper password, then walked up to the bar.
"Afternoon, Tom, I'd like to introduce you to Wally. He's a friend of mine."
"Nice to meet you, Tom."
"Nice to meet you Wally," the bartender replied. "You two share muggle tailors or something?"
Harry snorted as he looked down at his bright yellow jacket, bullet-proof vest (the AK-resistant variety was still in its production stage), and dark combat fatigues.
"It's all part of the problems that the Muggles are having down the street…sorry that we had to shut down that entrance."
"No matter, Harry… hardly anyone's come through that side all summer."
Harry nodded as he placed a small bag of galleons onto the bar. "Well, here's enough to cover any business that you might be losing." When Tom raised an eyebrow and tried to push the pile back he added, "Consider it an advance on food and drink for the Aurors who might pass by here tonight."
"Might not be enough, then, if you want to give Mad-Eye an open tab," the toothless bartender replied. "Speakin' of which…he's waiting for you in the back room."
"Thanks Tom," Harry replied. He shook the bartender's hand and wheeled his trunk to one of the Leaky Cauldron's private rooms. The door opened just as Harry tried to knock, and a wand tip was jammed up close to his face.
"Where were you when I was stuffed inside a box?"
"Which time?" Harry asked with smirk. "My fourth year, when Barty Crouch Jr. passed as your double, or last month, when we fought Dementors on the infield of Ascot?"
Mad-Eye squinted at Harry with his one good eye, then turned his attention to Wally.
"You!" he exclaimed. "What in Merlin's name can I ask you?"
Wally looked at the reinstated Auror and winked. "Well, you could ask me out for a drink…The Stag's got two-for-one appetizers after nine tonight."
Mad-Eye sputtered and took a couple of steps back, allowing Harry and Wally to enter the room.
"Don't think you need to challenge me, Potter?" Moody asked.
Harry shook his head and quipped, "Only the real Mad-Eye Moody would get all flustered at the thought of drinks with Wally at The Stag."
The reinstated Auror accepted Harry's logic with a scowl, then introduced his four-person Auror team, who were sitting around a table dressed in battle robes.
"Potter?" one asked incredulously. "And a muggle? What are they doing here?"
"Pipe down," Mad-Eye barked, as he added a couple more layers of sound-proof spell work to the door and walls. "He's here because the Head Auror asked him. The muggles have spotted some Death Eaters, and Wally, here…for better or worse…is their go-between with the Auror Department."
"Erm…thanks for that kind introduction," said Wally. He opened the trunk and helped Harry pass out briefing documents and maps.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Wally said, as he fished a card from his wallet. "My name is Agent Wall, and I am a card-carrying muggle employed by Her Majesty's Government. At approximately 1:45pm this afternoon, muggle police officers used these pictures to identify Augustus Rookwood, Alecto Carrow and her brother Amycus on a street located a few blocks away from here."
"Really?" someone asked. "And how would muggles know what they looked like?"
Harry replied, "One of things I've done as Queen's Wizard is make sure that the muggle police have photographs of all wanted Death Eaters." He then added, "It's not the first time that the muggles have been asked to help the Auror Department."
"Sure it's them, then?"
Harry nodded. "You can see in the muggle photographs that they tried to disguise themselves a bit, but the witch called out to her brother, and Amycus is a pretty rare given name in the muggle world."
"So they were spotted walking down the street," said another Auror. "Are they still there?"
Harry shook his head. "They seemed to be paying attention to one of the addresses on this street. It's a wizard building with active wards, so the muggles don't know anything about what's inside."
Mad-Eye jumped in. "Those three will be back sometime, and they've spooked the muggles enough for them to create a fake emergency and clear out all of the muggle neighbors."
Wally nodded, and pointed out the established perimeter on the map. He told the group that the only people that should be within the zone were muggle security forces. He then passed out some garishly-colored clothing that would paradoxically allow the wizards to blend in.
"Might as well paint a target on your back," Mad-Eye muttered, as he held a neon-yellow sleeveless jacket up for closer inspection.
"These tabards will identify you as authorized private security personnel," Wally explained. "Your presence within the secured zone won't be questioned with these on."
"What do you mean private security forces?" an Auror asked.
"Certain shops and buildings have their own security forces independent of the government," Wally explained.
"Like the trolls inside Gringott's?"
Mad-Eye said, "That's right, you lot are trolls tonight…explains why I picked you ugly bastards."
Harry thought the laughter that followed this slur was a good sign that these Aurors had worked together before, and trusted Moody to lead them.
"What's with the heraldry?" another Auror asked, as he inspected the Queen's arms emblazoned on one breast and a red griffon on the other.
Wally pointed to the griffin on one of the vests and replied, "The muggle governmental program that has private security forces supporting the Yard during terrorist events is called Project Griffin."
"Muggles know about griffin, then?"
Harry shook his head. "Just as imaginary story tale creatures. As for the other side, well that's where each of private businesses puts their logo."
"And since nobody knows any better, you gentlemen will be inserted within the evacuated area as security guards for the target building, saying that it belongs to the muggle Queen."
One of the Aurors nodded, then asked, "Rules of engagement?"
"Kill'em before they kill you," Moody replied simply.
Wally added, "We'll do our best to keep the area free of muggle spectators. The streets are barricaded, and we've even built three-story tall screens to keep the gawkers from getting an eyeful. That said, the less fireworks you cause, and the less you wave your wands about, the easier it will be for us to preserve the wizarding world's secrets."
"Speaking of which," Harry said, "I understand that there might be other card-carrying muggles working in the area, so I don't want anyone to be obliviated without first asking for identification and clearing it with Mad-Eye or me, understood?"
There were head nods all around. Harry inspected the jackets and Wally offered fashion tips as the Aurors transfigured their robes. The combined group then left the pub to scout out observation posts with views of the Rookery. They didn't notice (or at least didn't make mention of) the Armored Personnel Vehicle that pulled up behind them as they turned onto Shaftesbury Avenue, or the MI-5 ¾ agents that piled out to establish an armed guard post directly across from the entrance to the wizarding world.
+++
10:00pm
Broadstreet Pedestrian Mall
Reading, Berkshire
Marcus Flint let out a little cheer when he heard Big Ben chime the hour on the radio station. That he heard the bells rather than a BBC report that the clock had been damaged meant that the attack was still on. It also meant that he could take the annoyingly uncomfortable ear buds out and ditch the muggle electronic device.
Flint pulled out his wand and with little concern for witnesses yelled "Imperio!" The curse hit an attractive muggle woman in the back, and she fell completely under his control. At Marcus's suggestion, she pulled her wallet out her purse and handed it over with a smile, a grope, and an open-mouthed kiss.
Cursing the fact that he didn't have time to offer her more "suggestions," the Death Eater direct-sight apparated down the street to an outdoor restaurant. His "Accio billfolds" and "Accio wallets" spells were powerful enough to rip through the trouser pockets and handbags of the bistro's dinner patrons; a quickly conjured shield kept Marcus from being pelted by the leather goods. He gathered the wallets and billfolds into an empty rucksack, then fired a Reducto at an enraged diner. Flint apparated away before the dead man's body hit the ground.
The Death Eater reappeared two blocks further down the street, where moviegoers were exiting a cinema and flooding into the sidewalk. He cast repeated clothes banishing and knee-reversal hexes at them, thinking it quite funny when the same muggle was afflicted by both spells. Wishing to leave the scene with a bang, Incendio spells were sent towards two different parked cars, setting them aflame.
Two and one-half minutes after hurling his first spell, the Death Eater left the chaos he had created and disapparated to a preplanned rally point.
+++
News of the attacks in Reading and several other cities reached Harry and Mad-Eye at the same time (by mobile phone and Patronus respectively).
"We've been called back to base," Mad-Eye told Harry, as they conferred within their observation post. "Expect we'll be chasing down Death Eaters and their damage all night."
Harry nodded. "You realize that it could just be a diversion."
The reinstated Auror replied, "Aye, but I also realize that you've got armed muggles watching us watch that building…expect you can handle yourselves if Rookwood does show?"
Harry nodded, thinking about where the other Art Club members were and whether they could be called on in a pitch.
"Take care, then, Mad-Eye, and…"
"Constant Vigilance!" they shouted at each other, before Moody disappeared.
Harry called for his MI-5 ¾ colleagues to return to the forward locations that they'd vacated in advance of the Aurors. He then badge-called Hermione, who was with the Prime Minister, and asked her to mobilize the Clan Air Force. Checking in with the other Art Clubbers, he worried about Hermione's mum and dad, who were guarding the Leaky Cauldron exit. He then looked towards the Rookery, and the setting sun behind it. All too soon he'd need to break out his night vision goggles, and worry about those creatures that roamed only at night.
+++
Men and women entered the small blind alleyway within Knockturn Alley in ones and twos, all linked by fate and choice to the Pack, and to the Alpha bitch that emerged from a hidden passageway to the muggle world.
Maggie smiled as she surveyed the small crowd. The wolf within each person was strong enough to acknowledge her dominance, and their eyes were all cast downward. The Alpha took particular joy at the sight of the former Alpha, whose neck still bore the scratch marks from her previous efforts to regain dominance.
Maggie lifted the witch's chin with her hand and said, "Hello there, luv, fancy another go?"
The Beta shook her head.
"Sure, then?" Maggie asked. "You see, it's just that we've a busy night…no time for me to cover you." A nasty idea came into Molly's head, and she added, "Unless we do it now?"
The Alpha suddenly twisted the Beta's head around and violently threw her down onto all fours. Molly then jumped down onto the witch's back and ground her skirt-covered hips into the witch's backside. The others joined her in a bit of raucus laughter, but Molly didn't belabor the point. After only a few seconds she stood and pulled the other woman back up to her feet.
"Tonight," Molly announced, "we run in two packs. Our Alpha is in Devonshire with the others. You will be following my lead. As you can see from our starting point, we have a rather target-rich environment."
Maggie waited for a few laughs and comments to pass before continuing. "Our Alpha and I have wolfsbane in our blood, so that our Pack can run where the Dark Lord wishes us to roam. Don't even think of straying from my tail, or I'll hamstring you myself. Any questions?"
When nobody replied, Maggie nodded and began to unbutton her blouse. "Right then, time for 'Kibbles 'n Bits'."
The others followed her lead and stripped off their clothing, showing little concern for modesty. The clothes, wands, and other possessions were stuffed into satchels and quietly gathered by a few unafflicted friends and spouses…a Pack auxiliary, of sorts, that would watch over these personal effects and redistribute them in the morning.
The sight of a dozen naked men and women casually chatting and comparing scars and body art was unnerving to the witches and wizards that passed by the darkened side-alley. Smart enough to put two and two together, they quickly spread the word and cleared off the streets. While a few trusted the security of spell-reinforced doorways, the vast majority of Knockturn Alley's residents decided that there were better places to be that night, and utilized the floo network for an uncoordinated mass exodus. In doing so, they unwittingly aided the coordinated efforts of dozens of Death Eater sympathizers, who began flooing en masse from one location to another just as the sun set.
+++
Rookwood welcomed nightfall on the top level of a South Bank car park. The former Unspeakable grinned as he drew his wand and casually cast a stinging hex towards Amycus Carrow.
"Bloody Hell!" the Death Eater cried. "What was that for?"
"Been wanting to do that all day," Rookwood said with a smile. "Now draw your wands and get to work."
They used shrinking and featherlight charms to convert their Mini and three other parked cars into pocket-sized miniatures. Each grabbed a miniature car (with Rookwood also grabbing the Cooper) and disapparated.
The three Death Eaters reappeared in Diagon Alley, just outside of Quality Quidditch Supplies. The scene was chaotic…people were running about, stray spells were flying, and the air was thick with smoke. Looking down the street, Rookwood could just barely make out the Apothecary and Potions Supply where Snape's team of Death Eaters were busy looting and terrorizing. They walked inside the shop, where a team of Death Eaters was busy bundling brooms while the shop owner was held at wand point.
The former Unspeakable was forced to duck as a green-colored spell shot towards him. "Hold your fire, you muggle-loving fools!" he cried out.
"Rookwood?" the crew chief asked.
"Of course I'm Rookwood."
"Sorry," the Death Eater said. "I didn't recognize you without your mask on."
Augustus began wondering whether it was his lot in life to babysit all of the stupid Dark Wizards as he approached the crew chief.
"Report!"
"Mission going according to plan," the Death Eater said. "Except that the owner here won't deactivate the anti-theft wards on his brooms."
Rookwood rolled his eyes. "And so, what's the Death Eater standard operating procedure for this situation?"
"Erm…"
"Merlin, are you a Dark wizard or not?" Rookwood walked up to the shop owner, pointed his wand and said Imperio!
"Oh, right, forgot we could do that now."
Rookwood didn't have time to snark back at the idiot. He commanded the shop owner to remove the anti-theft charms on three of his fastest brooms while he gave further instructions to his colleagues.
"You've got your portkey maker working?"
The crew chief nodded and pointed towards a corner of the store where a single wizard was busy creating portkeys to various destinations from a stack of quidditch gloves.
"Don't bother bringing the shop owner along if you need to leave before he's finished," Augustus said. "We can't have him casting his spells once we've arrived at the safe houses."
The crew chief nodded. "Where are you off to then?"
Rookwood lost his patience and cast a Crucio on the crew chief. He only held it for a few seconds before encouraging the Death Eater to remember his place and worry about his own mission. He then took the three brooms and looked for his colleagues.
"Amycus, what in Merlin's name are you doing?"
"Always wanted some of these," the Death Eater replied sheepishly, a box of snitches in his hand.
"Leave the bloody things, take these brooms, grab your useless sister, and follow my lead…we've got to move on."
The younger Carrow reluctantly dropped the box, picked up the brooms and threw one towards his sister. The three then flew out of the front entrance and up into the night.
+++
Fred and George were watching the Death Eater attacks from the rooftop of their shop when their Art Club badges lit up.
"Emergency Alert," Wally cried out. "Visual contact with werewolves running in Diagon Alley, heading towards the Twin's Shop…Fred, George, do you copy?"
The Twins froze, and briefly traded looks of panic before their training kicked in. Fred ran towards the stairs while George leaned out over the roof and replied, "Copy that Wally, we've got ten or twelve heading up the street."
"What's your status?" Wally asked.
"I'm on the rooftop. George just ran downstairs to set out our welcome mat. Katie and Alicia have been trying to get mobilize with the CAF, but someone's cast an anti-app ward and the floo network is down."
"Understood," said Harry. "Fred, get everybody up on the roof, and don't be afraid to call for help."
George cut in. "Roger that, Clan Chief, we're…"
The rest of her response was lost as the building shook with a loud "BANG!"
"Upstairs, now!" George cried out to the girls, as he barreled up the stairs and into the first floor apartment.
Fred called down from the roof hatch, "Oi…grab the brooms on the way up."
George yelled back his acknowledgement as he pointed his wand towards the apartment door. With the sound of howls and crashes traveling up the stairwell, he quickly threw up a few sealing wards, then ran down the hallway and into the apartment's two bedrooms.
"So, brother, where's your broomstick?" George yelled.
"Check under my bed," Fred yelled back.
"Found it," George replied, as he stepped back into the hallway. He ran towards the base of the stairs, then noticed that it had gone quiet below him.
"Reckon our traps got them all?" he asked, as he walked up the stairs.
"Would be nice to think so," Fred replied. They then heard a series of loud howls.
"Then again…." George yelled, as he rushed up towards his twin and helped him secure the roof hatch.
"I guess it's too much to hope that they stay down there and finish off our dinner?" Fred asked.
George nodded. "Don't think we cooked the steaks rare enough."
+++
The Beta had hung well back within the pack as the Alpha led them down the Alley and into Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. She had watched with reluctant admiration as the Alpha broke down the doorway, only to turn on a sickle and gloat when some sort of trap was sprung and the floors transformed into alligator-infested swamps. She and three others stopped short of the entrance and watched as their brothers and sisters battled the muddy reptiles, and was beginning to think about jumping into the fray for her share when a silvery mist appeared within the shop that caused her to cough violently and back away from the door.
The werewolf's nostrils burned from inhaling the colloidal silver solution that had been sprayed from ceiling-mounted sprinkler heads as a light mist... to the point where she could no longer pick up the Alpha's scent. Sensing her chance, she turned to the other three pack-members and quickly asserted her dominance (as they too had experienced an impaired sense of smell). Deciding that there were better places to hunt, the Beta led the other three werewolves on a dead run down Diagon Alley.
The Auror that had been guarding the muggle entrance to the Leaky Cauldron chose a particularly bad time to poke his head into the Alley. The Beta werewolf smelled him through the thick clouds of smoke and struck with a leap of more than twenty feet. She viciously ripped out the Auror's throat, then scampered inside the abandoned pub.
The Beta ferreted out the muggle exit by the faint smell of prey and she crashed the door with her Pack mates close behind. Her momentum carried the werewolf not just through the door, but across the sidewalk and into the street, where she slid into the side of a vehicle. Almost instantly the werewolf felt the sting of a bullet as it struck her thigh. With a snarl and surge of energy she bolted down the street, somehow managing to avoid a hail of bullets.
Her Pack-mates weren't as lucky. Roger and Emma Granger's high-velocity silver bullets struck their canine skulls in precise groups of three, and they fell before they could cross the street.
Hermione's parents kept their semi-automatic rifles trained on the carcasses, though if truth be told it was due more to their shock than training. A cry from the site commander shook them out of the moment, and they followed his orders to climb into the car and chase after the escaped werewolf.
+++
Harry Potter struggled to maintain his composure as the reports of Death Eater attacks came in from both his Art Club badge and MI -5 ¾ earpiece. It seemed as if the only place that had yet to be hit was the Rookery - the one location where they had anticipated a strike that evening.
Tonks had reported that the Death Eaters were busy in Hogsmeade, St. Mungo's and at least three different places within Diagon Alley. She had been ordered by the Auror Department to hold at Hogwarts in case the Hogsmeade attack was expanded. Fred and George were, at the moment, trapped within their shop with Katie and Alicia. Ron and his family had used his mum's medical emergency portkey to escape from the Burrow just before it was overrun by werewolves.
Like Fred and George, Ron had chosen not to badge-jump and leave behind those with less viable means of escape. Not that his wand wasn't needed where he was now…the portkey had dumped Ron, Ginny, their parents, Bill and Fleur right into the middle of a fire fight at the wizarding hospital's admittance desk. Harry hadn't heard from them in the last couple of minutes, and was beginning to worry.
Hermione rang his badge-phone. "Harry," she said, "we've got a report of possible Dementor activity in Inverness from one of our muggle-borns," she said.
"Blast!" he exclaimed. They got hold of Tonks, who reported that the Aurors had gotten a similar report, but were stretched too thinly to respond.
"Stretched too thinly?" Harry snorted. "Let me guess, half the force is out obliviating muggles while the other half is guarding the Ministry, which is presently not under attack."
"Actually, it sounds like a bit more than half are still at the Ministry," Tonks replied.
"Right, I've got to go," Harry concluded. He called Wally, arranged to have Sir Evan badge-jump to the Rookery as a potential anchor, then apparated up to the Scottish Highlands (ignoring his lack of licensure and conventional wisdom on distance limitations for wizard apparition).
+++
In the stairwell below the Twins' defensive positions, Fenrir's Alpha gathered what strength she had left, and considered her options, and her sorry state.
The alligators had been an annoyance. While not a threat, these reptiles did take time to dispatch, and then to digest (as her Pack found them to be rather tasty). But then the room began to fill with a cloud of poisonous gas. She had managed to hold her breath long enough to find a stairwell filled with sweet air. The werewolf then vomited up a bit of alligator meat.
Once she was done retching, she look back into the room and howled in dismay. Those that had followed her into the shop had all fallen prey to the gas cloud.
The Alpha's lament was quickly followed by an angry howl for revenge, and she bounded up the stairs. The door at the head of the stairs resisted her initial attack, but splintered on the second and smashed opened on the third. She leapt into the apartment above the shop and took a moment to seek out her prey. The werewolf reflexively sniffed for human scents, only to wince as air rushed into her silver-damaged nasal passages. Although the apartment was empty, there were recent scent trails everywhere, with one leading up another set of stairs.
The werewolf howled in recognition, leapt up the stairs and slammed into the closed roof hatch. The hatch held, and she bounced backwards halfway down the stairs. She gathered herself, and prepared for a second assault.
On the other side, Fred and George looked at each other with alarm.
"Think it's time to ask for help?" asked George.
"I think it's time we learn how to create portkeys," Fred replied.
George nodded, activated his badge, and yelled the Order of Arthur's ancient rallying cry.
"CLARENCE!"
+++
Hermione Granger heard the cry from her station within the Emergency Command Centre deep underneath 10 Downing Street. The Prime Minister and his senior security ministers heard it as well, as she was presently huddled with them in front of video displays showing the carnage at different attack points.
"Mr. Prime Minister?" she said anxiously as she drew both pistol and wand.
The leader of Great Britain turned to towards her and gave a curt nod.
"Go Hermione."
She disappeared almost before the permission had left the Prime Minister's lips.
She reappeared just in time to fire her service revolver towards a werewolf.
+++
The Alpha fell into a pool of her own blood. Lacking the strength to raise her head, the last blurry images registered by her lupine brain came through cockeyed:
A woman holding a smoking gun in her trembling hand…
Four others trying to console the woman….
An old man who appeared out of thin air and cautiously walked towards the Alpha with a gun in his hand…
That gun being raised towards her head….
A trigger being pulled.
+++
Sir Evan of Eastleigh didn't need to look down as he reloaded his service revolver with silver slugs. This allowed him to keep his eyes on the beast as he cautiously walked backwards towards Hermione and the others.
"Alright, there Dame Hermione?" he asked.
Hermione only sniffed as she followed Sir Evan's lead and loaded a full clip into her handgun.
"How many shots?" he asked.
Hermione dumped the old clip out into her hand.
"Five left, seven fired," she replied, half wondering why he had asked.
"Hermione?" Fred asked. "What do we do now?"
The Weasley Twin's question brought Hermione back to reality.
"One of you should badge-jump to Tonks…she's still at Hogwarts. Sir Evan and I will stay back in case…"
"Is Hogwarts under attack?" Fred asked.
Hermione shook her head. "Ask the Headmistress to make a portkey. Once you get one, use us as an anchor and return. Then Alicia and Katie can portkey to Hogwarts and apparate out from there."
"What about us, then?" asked George.
Hermione softy replied. "Harry is off hunting Dementors by himself in Inverness."
"Right, then, Fred you get the portkey and I'll go help Harry now."
Fred disagreed, which forced a quick game of rock-parchment-wand. George got his way, so it was Fred that called Tonks to arrange badge-transit to Hogwarts.
Sir Evan wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulder as the Twins kissed the girls and disappeared into the night.
"Sir Evan," she said, "thanks for finishing the job."
The elderly knight nodded. "We'll have a talk over tea when this is done, right?"
Hermione looked at Sir Evan with an empty stare and nodded.
"You should get back to Prime Minister," Sir Evan said.
Hermione looked around.
"Sure you'd be okay here by yourself?"
Sir Even grinned as he nodded his head towards Alicia and Katie and waggled his eyebrows. "But I wouldn't be by myself, would I? Me and two lovely ladies, up on a roof…"
Hermione snorted. "Always the frisky one, aren't you Sir Evan?"
The elderly knight smiled "'Tis the secret to a long and happy life."
Hermione pursed her lips into an almost-smile as she thought about Harry's morning trip into her naughty memories. "Well if that's the case, then Harry will live to be 300."
"There you go," Sir Evan said, glad to see that she had begun to break out of her shock. "Now go give the Prime Minister my regards."
Hermione nodded, thanked him again for his help, then badge-jumped away.
As soon as he was gone, Sir Evan turned serious. "We need to clean up the site," he told Katie and Alicia. "Eight shell casings and eight slugs. I don't want any evidence lying about that anyone used a gun here tonight, right?"
The two witches nodded, understanding the implications of Hermione firing a muggle gun, even if it was against a werewolf. They used Accio spells to retrieve the bullet fragments, going so far as to magically extract the bloody slugs from the werewolf's body. Katie then lightened the corpse and transfigured it into a small book, which Sir Evan placed inside his coat pocket. Alicia then followed up by banishing the blood and repairing the roof hatch.
+++
Sir Evan's actions within Diagon Alley kept him from spotting broomstick-riding Death Eaters as they hovered in a small group above The Rookery.
"So what floor is it, Guv'nor?" Amycus called out.
Rookwood replied. "I don't know, but I'd guess it's one of the two apartments that are still lit up."
"So which one do we hit?" Alecto cackled.
Rookwood paused, then said, "We go after the top one first. If Malfoy's not there, we'll just use Reducto's to smash our way through the floors, layer by layer."
That decision made, the three enacted the next stage of Plan B. The Death Eaters flew at top speed towards the target apartment's balcony, threw the miniaturized cars towards it, then canceled the shrinking and featherlight charms. Tightly banked turns kept the three out of harm's way, as the full-sized vehicles, now propelled only by inertia and gravity, struck the building at close to 150 km/hr.
Were it not for the fact that they were muggle-hating wizards, Harry would later imagine they had been inspired by Arnold Schwarzenegger and Terminator 1.
The impacts blew large portions of the structure inward, and left the three cars with their boots hanging free and unsupported. Rookwood circled back around, then led the other two through the widest opening and into the flat. They dismounted their brooms and picked their way through the apartment, looking to see if they'd gotten lucky and killed Malfoy in the crash. The only sign of life (or former life) was in a bedroom, where the ceiling had collapsed and buried someone in their bed. As only a foot was visible underneath the pile of rubble, the former Unspeakable ordered the other two to help him levitate debris off of the pile.
+++
"I don't care what you think about what you are seeing," Wally barked into the radio. "Just tell me, in plain terms, what's happening inside that building."
The spotter shook his head as he lifted his binoculars back up to his eyes.
"The three people who were flying around on…well they look like old broomsticks…anyway they are now inside the apartment, pointing sticks at a pile of rubble. Big chunks are floating up off to the side. It's like the people are telling the debris where to go with their sticks."
"Thank you, Sergeant," Wally calmly replied. "Do the three people match our profiles?"
Both the spotter and his gun-wielding partner looked down at the photographs fixed to the wall of their rooftop perch. They checked their glasses and scope and nodded.
"Affirmative," the spotter announced.
"Target acquisition?"
This time it was the sniper that replied. "Spotty…I've got clear head shots at two hundred metres, except the bits and pieces of building floating about."
"Roger that," Wally replied. "Hold for instructions."
The MI-5 ¾ agent pulled out his earpiece and activated his Art Club badge.
"Hermione…you back there with the Prime Minister yet?"
"Yes Wally, go ahead."
"It looks like Rookwood and the others flew to the Rookery on broomsticks and hurled three cars into the side of the building. They're presently within the twentieth floor apartment, moving debris from a pile. I've got a sniper team in position with an occasional clear shot. What do we do?"
"Hold on, Wally."
Agent Granger turned off her Art Club badge and looked around the table.
"Are you even contemplating assassination?" the Home Secretary asked.
"No," the Prime Minister calmly replied, "but only because authorizing lethal force is anything but an assassination in this instance." He turned towards his MI-5 Chief and asked, "What's the latest casualty estimate?"
"Still coming in, sir…attacks in a dozen locations across the country, at least eighty-seven dead, more than four-hundred wounded…"
The Prime Minister turned to Hermione.
"Death Eater attacks for certain, based on the reports. No robes, no Death Marks, but there's magic involved. Also attacks within the wizarding community as well."
"Any of our wizards on the scene?"
Hermione shook her head.
The Prime Minister nodded. "Get Agent Wall back on the phone, erm…badge."
Hermione opened a line, then placed her badge on the table in front of the Prime Minister.
"Agent Wall," he said, "Take out anything in that apartment that's wielding a wand."
As Wally acknowledged the order the Prime Minister called his personal secretary into the room.
"Shacklebolt, I assume that you can send confidential messages to the Minister of Magic?"
Kingsley nodded, as he took in the sight of Hermione Granger sitting at the muggle Prime Minister's side.
"Then Auror Shacklebolt, would you please inform the Minister Scrimgeour that Her Majesty's Government will have a card-carrying incident commander in charge of each of the areas where muggles were attacked tonight?" the Prime Minister asked. "And that a State of Emergency exists, such that any witch or wizard caught using a magical wand on our side of the fence will be arrested? You also might want to mention that those who resist arrest or point a wand towards a police officer will be shot."
Shacklebolt grew as pale as his skin tone allowed. "Erm, does that include the Aurors, sir? I mean…some of the muggle casualties will likely involve hexes that need reversing."
The Prime Minister pursed his lips and nodded. "Tell them, then, that their Aurors will be expected to work under our site commanders. They'll get to keep their wands and can help out if they present their badges and use the proper recognition phrase."
"Yes sir…and what should I tell them the recognition phrase is?"
The Prime Minister snorted. "Any suggestions, Agent Granger?"
Hermione bit her lower lip. "How about 'I love muggles'?"
The Prime Minister smiled. "Yes…that will do nicely."
+++
Rookwood had just determined that the wizard that had been crushed to death in his bed was not Lucius Malfoy when he heard a loud "CRACK!" and was splattered with Alecto Carrows' blood and brains. He immediately fell to the floor and scanned the area for threats. A second shot that would have pierced Amycus' forehead instead smashed into a piece of plaster that he'd been. A cloud of white dust settled down upon the two Death Eaters, creating a pinkish paste where it mixed with the blood.
Alecto's brother cried out her name as Rookwood crawled over to inspect her body. There was a quarter-inch diameter hole just above her right eye and a six-inch diameter crater on the back of her skull.
"Muggles!" the former Unspeakable hissed, as if it were a curse word.
This changed everything, in his opinion. Not just that they had killed a Death Eather, but that they set the trap themselves or collaborated with the Aurors. He didn't know which was worse, but did know that this vital information had to be shared with his Master. He shouted to Amycus. "We've got to get to the rally point now!"
"But my sister!"
"I've got hold of Alecto…I'll side-along her."
But nothing happened when they tried to disapparate.
"Wards against that," Augustus stated. He looked around and decided that they'd need to fly out of the anti-apparition zone. Figuring that the shot had been fired through the broken windows, he crawled out of the room with a distraught Carrow right behind.
"What about my sister, though?"
Rookwood shouted, "We can't carry her out on our brooms…we'll come back full force and get our revenge then."
The former Unspeakable dragged the other Death Eater along the ground to a window on the far side of the apartment. An Evansco spell took care of the glass and their broomsticks carried them out into the night…and into the sightlines of a second muggle sniper.
The shock of the Rookery's wards stripping Amycus Carrow's memory of where he had just been and what he had just done was shocking enough for him to lose his balance and fall from his broomstick. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, as a rifle bullet passed through the air space formally occupied by his left temple.
Amycus's cries as he fell from the sky were enough to clear Rookwood's mind, and to focus on the immediate situation. He had no idea where he was, or why he was on a broomstick, but he did know that if he didn't help Amycus that he'd be dead very soon. He pulled the broom into a steep dive and an intercepting course. But Amycus didn't realize that help was on the way and decided to risk an emergency apparition just as Rookwood reached out from his broom and grabbed his shoulder.
There was a loud crack and most of Amycus Carrow disappeared, along with Rookwood's left hand. The former Unspeakable howled in pain and at the stupidity of his underling, whose splinched right buttock was still free-falling towards the ground.
Rookwood pulled out of his dive, struggling to maintain control of the broom with one hand, and quickly considered where Amycus might have gone off too. Expecting the worst and hoping for the least worst, Rookwood concentrated on a destination and disapparated.
He reappeared in the still-smelly living room of the Bristol safe house.
"Amycus?" he bellowed.
While there was no verbal reply, the sound of moaning from upstairs suggested that he had guessed right. He ran up the stairs, pushed open a bedroom door and threw a whimpering Death Eater off of a bed.
"Where's my bloody hand, you fool?" he demanded.
Amycus sobbed loudly as he pointed towards the bed.
Rookwood scowled as he spotted his splinched appendage within the soiled sheets. He grabbed it with his good hand and carried it over to a chest of drawers that was merely dusty. After placing it on the top of the chest and positioning his stump, he drew his wand and began to swish its tip over the breach. After a complex incantation and a bit of time, his hand was unsplinched.
The former Unspeakable strode back to the bed and yelled, "Get up you whimpering fool, we need to go now."
"But why?" Amycus asked. "This is the safe house."
"It's no longer a safe house now that you've splinched yourself trying to apparate here."
"But my bum!"
"You left it behind for the muggless to munch on, and there's no going back."
"But my sister!"
"Dunno where's she's gone to."
Carrow paused, then lamented once more, "But my bum!"
"Oh, quit whining," said Rookwood, as he turned a muggle alarm clock into a portkey. He grabbed Amycus's hand and placed it on the clock, adding, "Maybe if you ask nicely the Dark Lord will fashion you a new bum made of silver."
+++
Sunday, July 8, 2:30am
33 Sq. Briefing Room
RAF Benson, Oxfordshire
Harry, Fred and George badge-jumped from the battlefield directly into Hermione's arms. It was rather crowded, but there were no admonishments about time or place. Hermione mentioned that Katie and Alicia were in the next room, then buried her face into Harry's chest as the Twins dashed off to their own reunion.
After furtive physical reassurances that each was alive (if not completely well), Hermione pushed some Belgian chocolate into his hands and helped him slip off his fatigues.
"What's with the beret and these insignias?" Harry asked, as he fingered the patches on his new clothing.
"The Clan Air Force was drummed into the British Army a few hours ago," Hermione explained. "The P.M. was initially thinking RAF, but then somebody pulled rank and had you placed within The Parachute Regiment. This is their uniform."
"Who could pull rank on the Prime Minister?" Harry asked.
"That would be my mum," said a voice from behind Harry. He turned to see a smiling Prince of Wales, who was standing in the doorway and dressed in a drab olive military uniform. He entered the room and extended his hand to Harry.
"Glad to see you that you pulled through tonight, Lord Gryffindor," he said warmly.
"Thank you, Your Royal Highness."
"In this case, I think that 'sir' would be more appropriate."
"Why is that…sir?"
"Ah, you see…Her Royal Majesty asked that your group be assigned to The Parachute Regiment as a favor to me, as I am its Colonel-in-Chief."
Harry nodded, then asked, "Does that mean I now have a military commission?"
The Prince nodded. "Consider it a field appointment until the paper work comes through, Major Potter."
"Major Potter?" Harry asked, as he inspected the rank slide affixed to his jacket. "Merlin, that's another title."
"You do seem to be outpacing me, don't you," the Prince replied with a smirk. "In this case, though, it is entirely appropriate for the leader of the Queen's magical forces to hold that rank."
"But there's no need, is there…"
"Perhaps not for you," the Prince stated, "but some within your group don't have any formal ties to either government, correct? A military enlistment protects them from charges of vigilantism, and provides Her Majesty's Government with the opportunity to sanction your efforts."
Before Harry could protest any further Ron walked into the room, snapped to attention and gave a crisp military salute.
"Squadron's assembled and ready for mission brief, sir," he said sharply.
The Prince chuckled. "Well done, Captain Weasley…wherever did a wizard such as yourself learn about muggle military traditions?"
Ron shifted his eyes towards Hermione, then returned his eyes forward and replied, "Muggle video games, sir!"
Hermione snorted as Harry walked over and gave Ron a manly hug.
"Geroff," Ron whined. "My ribs are still knitting back together."
"Good to see you too, mate…everyone else alright, then?"
"Yeah, everyone pulled through somehow."
"Sorry about your house," said Harry.
"Yes, well, bricks and magic mortar can be replaced, right?" Ron asked.
"That's for certain," Hermione said, as she gave Ron's shoulder a squeeze.
"Yes, well…shall we?" the Prince asked, as he held his arm out towards the door. Ron led them out into a small hallway, then into a briefing room filled men and women dressed in combat fatigues and red berets. At his call for attention everyone stood and saluted (some displaying that skill better than others).
"I don't think I'm up for giving any speeches," Harry quietly admitted to the Prince.
"Allow me, then, Major Potter," the Prince replied. He then strode up to the podium and said, "Take your seats, Phoenix Teams…I dare say that after tonight's action many of you deserve to be off your feet."
As the audience sat Harry got a clear look at who was there. He was thrilled to see that every Phoenix Team member from Privet Drive was present (except, of course, for Brian, who was still convalescing).
"Just a quick word, as I know you have a hunt to attend to," the Prince said. "Earlier tonight Tom Riddle and his Death Eater terrorists launched a well-coordinated and widespread attack against muggle Britain. For reasons that we will surely learn of in the days ahead, the Ministry of Magic provided a pitifully inadequate defense for our people, and in many ways acted counterproductively. We now know that hundreds have died or been kissed."
"You are all well aware that Her Majesty's Government has become increasingly active in the defense of its peoples from magical attacks, but after tonight it is clear that we need to step up to a whole new level. And any part of any good defense is a good offense. I therefore wish The Prince's Own First Magical Squadron of The Parachute Regiment Godspeed on striking a blow against the Dark Lord and his minions."
"And with that, I'll turn it over to Captain Weasley."
The Prince stepped to the side as Ron walked up to the podium and began to outline their mission.